Oh.

It would seem that I’m back with Shakespeare. Timon of Athens this time.

He was not a very nice person. Overfond of money and attention.

Let’s see where this takes us.

“What a god’s gold / That he is worshiped in a baser temple / Than where swine feed!”

“Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon!” 

“Immortal gods, I crave no pelf;
I pray for no man but myself.”

“I have a tree, which grows here in my close,
That mine own use invites me to cut down,
And shortly must I fell it: tell my friends,
Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree
From high to low throughout, that whoso please
To stop affliction, let him take his haste,
Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe…”